


Flicker

by starvonnie



Series: Flare, Flicker, Fade [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Coping with Death, M/M, Mech Preg, Near Death Experiences, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8271409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvonnie/pseuds/starvonnie
Summary: Execution day.  Rodimus never thought he would actually live to see it.  Now he has to cope with the passing of Megatron.Megatron's death isn't "on-screen" but if you can't cope with the idea of him dying I wouldn't read this.Edit: I almost forgot! To truly indulge in your suffering, you must listen to Beautiful Girl but Broken Iris (just... ignore the pronouns and such).





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I wrote this.

People didn't want him there when it happened.  Rodimus didn't care either way.  He could be at the other end of the universe and he would still feel it happen.  Even with the distance between them, he could feel that Megatron was scared.  His spark thrummed in his chest so fast that he worried it might give out right then and there. 

Did they think he would try and stop it?  What would he even _do_?  People were angry enough with him for taking Megatron as his conjunx.  Hell, a part of _himself_ was mad at him for that.  He was _Megatron_.  Why couldn't he get that through his thick helm?  But he knew he'd be stopped if he tried anything.  Long before he'd ever get to the stage.  Which was why he hadn't protested when Ratchet had dragged him away.  One last lingering kiss with Megatron.  A cuffed Megatron.  One who couldn't even hold him one last time.

Rodimus didn't struggle.  Megatron complied.

"I'm sorry, Rodimus."  Those had been his last words to him.  A part of him mourned that he hadn't told him that he loved him one last time, but he wasn't sure he could have brought himself to say it.  It felt too much like good-bye.  And they weren't allowed to say good-bye.  But it was good-bye, wasn't it?

Rodimus' shoulder met with the wall and he slumped to the floor.  It wasn't until Ratchet shined a bright light directly into his optics that he realized he had fallen.  He couldn't feel much of anything.  Even the light seemed dull to his optics.

"Is it over?"  Rodimus' spark hurt, but it had felt like that all morning.  Like a metrotitan was sitting on his chest.  Ventilations came slowly and painfully.

"No," Ratchet regretfully informed him.

"I can't... I've got to..."

Ratchet took hold of his wrists before he could do anything.  But he was so weak, so tired, he wasn't even sure what he'd do once his hands found purchase.  He wasn't going to be able to even pick himself off the floor.

"I think you should stay right here," Ratchet suggested gently.  He had been so kind all day. 

"I have to--"  Rodimus choked on his next words.  It felt like he was being strangled.

"It's going to be okay, Rodimus."

If Rodimus were of sound processor, seeing Ratchet like this would have been disturbing.  He had never been quiet about how he disapproved of their relationship.  Especially after they had bonded.  "A couple of spark-brained idiots," he had said.  Rodimus had expected more tellings-off about how this was all because of his stupidity.  He couldn't decide if that would have been better than this.

Megatron had told him that this was a bad idea.  But finding the Knights, Cyberutopia...  Rodimus never thought that would actually _happen_.  That they'd be on this quest forever.  That Megatron would be his forever.  A perpetual probation, eventually forgotten.  Time was weird like that.  Time was dumb like that.  Who gave it the right to go on and change things?

"I should have listened to you," Rodimus managed to get out of his tight intake.  "This was a mistake."  His spark burned particularly painfully as Megatron felt his regret.  It didn't feel like scolding on the other end.  No reprimanding for feeling something he had promised not to feel.  Just... acceptance.  He would have rather felt Megatron's rage.  Anything but this.  Something to show him that Megatron-- his Megatron!-- was still there.  He wanted to comm him.  To say something.  _Yell_ at him.  Primus, but only Rodimus would waste whatever time they had left to fight.  But of course his commlink was deactivated.  He'd tried it three times before that.  Still not sure exactly what to say.

Very quietly, to the point in which Rodimus could have easily mistaken speaking for thinking, he said, "No good-byes."  But they had already said it.  "No regrets."  But he still felt it.

"You should have," Ratchet agreed, not having heard his last words.  "But don't think of this as a mistake.  Love isn't a mistake." 

"I feel like I'm dying."  And if this wasn't what dying felt like, he was sure to know soon.

"Well, the good news is that it's impossible for you to die from this."  With the grunt of an old mech doing anything slightly strenuous, Ratchet sat down beside him.  "The bad news?  It's going to hurt.  A lot."

"It already does," Rodimus said quietly.  Even after what Ratchet had said, Rodimus was convinced he'd die here.  Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, nor even the day after that, but someday.  On this too-clean floor.  Under the too-bright lights.  He'd never have the strength to pick himself back up.  And it wasn't like there was too much left for him if he did.

They had been merciful, at least Megatron had told him so, in giving them their last night.  Rodimus had lay there, cradled in his arms, as Megatron explained that criminals normally spent their last day holed up in a cell.  Just in case they tried to run.  Make one last break for it.

"We should," Rodimus had said quietly.  He tried to hold his conjunx tighter.  While he still had a conjunx.  But he found only weakness in his arms.

Megatron took hold of one of Rodimus' hands.  From this angle, it was awkward to do, but he still managed to tell him through his hand, // _Don't.  Cameras.  Watching.  Don't even suggest it._ //

Rodimus should have known.  They wouldn't truly allow them peace, even on his final day.  His final night.  The final chance.

"Bond with me," Rodimus begged.  "One last time."

A grey helm shook before he was even finished speaking.  "I regret even once forming that bond with you."  Megatron kissed his forehelm when Rodimus started to shake.  He pulled his helm into his neck.  "It will only strengthen the bond.  Make tomorrow worse."  Then it wasn't just Rodimus who was shaking.  "I never imagined we would run out of time."

The words refused to be spoken.  Anything Rodimus tried to say was overlaid heavily with static until his voicebox would pop and be forced to reset.  So he let his hand say what he could not.

Pulling their fingers apart, Megatron fighting against their separation until Rodimus kissed him, field thrumming with as much trust and love as he could muster up over the fear.  Eventually Megatron yielded, and then Rodimus felt his spark flare with adoration when he turned their hands palm-to-palm, fingers gently resting on sensitive wrist wires.  Slowly, Rodimus crooked his middle finger, stroking every bit of the main wire he could, until he met with the base of Megatron's palm.  Megatron imitated the motion, then he did it again.  And again.  He wouldn't stop.  // _I love you, I love you, I love you_.//

And when they interfaced, and Rodimus had to stop himself from thinking _for the last time_ , Megatron kept his hand there, continuing the motion.  It helped him to stop thinking about it.  How their time had run out.  How by this time tomorrow, he would be a widow.  How empty this berth was going to be without his frame in it. 

This was it.

The ghosts of Megatron's hands haunted him.  If he closed his optics and covered his audials, he might be able to imagine them real.  But they weren't real.  He'd never feel those hands again.  

This was agonizing.  Megatron was out there.  Raised on a stage while the masses called for his head.  Years ago, Rodimus would have been right there with them.  If Megatron hadn't found his loophole, he would have been front and centre to watch his spark burn out.  In a way, he still had that front row seat.  Only it was much, much worse.

Rodimus gasped as a sharp pain attacked his spark.  It felt like he'd been shot.  Had he been shot?  He couldn't tell.  His optics had shorted out.  He could still hear.  Barely.  A thick layer of static made it hard to make out words.

By the time he registered that he was being carried, he was laid down on  table.  His optics were slowly coming back online but he could only make out vague shapes.  Shadows over grey static.  Like someone had thrown a blanket over his face.  Maybe they had.  Maybe he was dead.

"But... he hasn't been executed yet," he heard someone say.  Dead bots couldn't hear, right?

"I said: get First Aid!" Ratchet barked.  " _Now_!"  More quietly, to Rodimus, he said, "Rodimus, I need you to stay calm.  You're going to be fine, but I need you to stay calm."

Clawing at his chest, wanting to expel his spark, he gasped, "Where's Megatron?  I want Megatron!"

"Frag it all..."  Away from Rodimus, Ratchet said, "Drift?  I need you here.  Rodimus needs you."  After a pause, he shouted, "Yes, now!"

The pain was dulled for a moment as cool energon entered his veins, but it was short lived.  The second Ratchet finished pouring it returned full force.  Like his chest was literally on fire.

"Drift's coming," Ratchet soothed.  But that wasn't who he wanted.  That wasn't who he _needed._

Someone was holding his hand.  It was probably Ratchet, but Rodimus still couldn't see properly. 

"I want Megatron," he whimpered.

A pause.  "I know you do."

The hand squeezed reassuringly.  It did nothing in his new world of fire and pain, but the gesture was nice.  But Megatron was the only one who would be able to quell it.  He would be here soon.  This was just a bad dream.  He'd be there to stroke his spoiler and coax him back to sleep.  Nightmares didn't stand a chance against Megatron.

Rodimus smiled.

"Why the hell are you smiling?" Ratchet asked, more concerned than scolding.

"It's okay, Ratchet," Rodimus told him.  "I know this isn't real.  I'll wake up soon.  Megatron'll be there.  He always is."

Under his ventilations, Ratchet hissed, "Dammit, Drift!  You call yourself a speedster?"

"Mmm... Drift."  Rodimus let his helm roll to the side.  "I think I'll go visit him later.  We haven't hung out in a while.  Or are you gonna take him out today, Ratch?"  He laughed to himself.  "Why am I asking?  It's not like you're real."

Dreams always felt so real.  It truly felt like Ratchet was holding his hand.  Like he would ever do that.

"Ratchet!"  Breathless, Drift burst into the room.  He rushed over to Rodimus, and through the haze he saw his amica's concerned face.  It lifted to look at Ratchet.  "But the... it hasn't happened yet.  What's wrong with him?"

"Drift, please tell me that you two spark merge and just never told me because you didn't want me to lecture you." 

Drift took Rodimus' other hand.  "No, uh, we've never... no."

"I was worried you'd say that."

"What's happening to him, Ratchet?"  Drift asked again, his grip on Rodimus tightening.  It was nice of Drift to try and comfort him.  Unnecessary, but nice.

Rodimus rolled towards Drift, and it hurt, and it hurt when Ratchet forced him back onto his back, cursing under his ventilations.  In the end, he just turned his helm.

"It's okay, Drift," Rodimus told him.  "I'll be with Megatron soon."

The colour drained from Drift's face.  "Is he dying?"

"He thinks he's dreaming," Ratchet explained.  "But I'm not going to lie to you, Drift.  He might.  That's why I called you.  I need you to link yourself to him for when he _is_ executed.  At present, his spark can't take the strain alone."

Drift had already uncoiled his line and connected himself before he asked, "But what's happening to him _now_?"

"Are you telling me you don't feel that?" Ratchet asked.

Looking down at Rodimus, Drift's face turned focused.  Then he looked shocked.  Which turned into a smile, and then a look of horror.  His face couldn't seem to decide how he was feeling.  Flitting between emotions so quickly he couldn't pin one down.

"Oh, Rodimus..."  Drift ran his thumb over the back of Rodimus' hand.

"You have to stay calm," Ratchet instructed. 

"Yes.  Okay.  I will.  And Rodimus?"

At the sound of his name, Rodimus looked at Drift.  Or tried to, anyways.  His optics didn't seem very intent on staying put.

"I'm going to help you in any way I can.  I'm going to get you through this."  Drift's other hand cradled Rodimus', holding it up to his chest.  Up against his spark.  He could feel it beating.

Ratchet checked the clock on the wall.  "Where the frag is First Aid?  We don't have much time."

"No, no, don't look at him."  Drift turned Rodimus' helm back when he tried to look away.  "Focus on me.  Focus on my voice.  Everything's going to be okay."

Rodimus laughed, and Drift winced along with him as another bolt of pain struck his chest.  "I know that.  Megatron's gonna be there when I wake up.  He always helps me get back to sleep.  I have a lot of nightmares, you know.  But he's always there.  Always."

Drift's grip started to hurt, but it was nothing compared to the chaos of his spark.

"You're going to be okay," Drift repeated, more to himself this time.

Ratchet made some noise to his right, and Rodimus tried to look again.  But like last time, Drift stopped him.  Staring down at him with flickering optics.

"Just keep looking at me," he murmured.

"Thirty seconds," Ratchet informed him.

"Hey, Rodimus?"  Drift said.  "No matter what happens, you keep looking at me.  You keep...  You keep thinking about Megatron, okay?  About how happy he makes you."

That was easy enough.  In fact, it was lessening the hurt to think of his conjunx.  Soon enough he'd feel his strong embrace.  Feel his lips on his forehelm.  A hand, gently stroking his spoiler...

"Ten seconds."

"Megatron loves you very much, Rodimus," Drift murmured.

"I know."

A wave of regret washed over Rodimus, until he felt like he was made of it.  His spark burned with the feeling.  It pumped regret through his veins.  From the top of his helm to the tips of his pedes.  He felt what he shouldn't be feeling.  He felt what he had promised Megatron, and what Megatron had promised him, that he wouldn't feel.  And yet here he was, mere moments before his spark was snuffed, regretting.  Their bond would make Megatron feel it, too.  He would know.  In his final moments, he would know that Rodimus regretted ever considering him.  Regretted taking him as a conjunx.  Regretted bonding with him.

He was horrible.

No, no, this was still a dream.  He couldn't fault him for feeling something in his dream, right?  This had to be a dream.

"Five seconds.  Brace yourself, Drift."  Ratchet was right beside him, seeming ready to catch him.

"I love you, Rod--"  Drift was cut off by his own scream.

Rodimus couldn't hear him, though.  Or see him.  His whole world began and ended with pain.  He was going to wake up at any moment now.  The searing in his spoiler would soon be soothed by gentle hands.  The fear, the _emptiness_ , Megatron would fix that, too.  He wouldn't let his Sun suffer like this.

He was vaguely aware of hands on him.  Megatron was moving so fast he felt like two people.  And he was very aware of his spark.  The burning beats were coming faster than he'd ever felt.  Faster than he'd thought _possible_.  This was the worst nightmare yet, and it was taking forever-- just end already!  It had been given, like, three opportunities.

"We're losing them both!"

Rodimus spark lurched at that.  Was he hurting Drift?  He couldn't feel his presence anymore.  Was he already gone?  Or had he woken up?  Was he hurting _Megatron_?  What had they been doing before they fell into recharge?  Rodimus couldn't remember.  He couldn't remember what was real and what wasn't.

"What can I do?" Drift asked desperately from the sidelines.

Dream Drift was fine.  So... who were they talking about?

"He's not bouncing back, Ratchet!  His spark's shrinking too fast!"

"Reconnect me, Ratchet!" Drift demanded.

"It's too dangerous!" Ratchet shouted back.

"I'm not going to stand here and watch them die!  Ratchet, I'm not going to let my amica die!"  Drift grunted like he was struggling.  "Reconnect me!"

"We could lose all three of you," Ratchet said quietly.  Voice pained.

"You really think I'll give up that easy, Ratch?" Drift said.  "I'm tougher than that.  _Rodimus_ is stronger than this.  He just needs a little support."

There was a long pause.  Full of those horrid beeps from a spark monitoring machine.  One that was going haywire from a dying spark.  Loud and erratic.  And after a click, it grew even more frenzied.  Then it started to return to normal as their sparks synced.  There was only an occasional random blip.

"Drift?" Ratchet's voice prompted quietly.

"I've got him," Drift said through grit denta.

"He's stabilizing!"  Rodimus finally identified this voice as belonging to First Aid.

After hearing that, Rodimus' optics started to online.  He saw two red and white blobs, and a more crisp, but still blurry, white shape much closer to him.  He realized it was Drift a moment before he started to fall.

"Drift!"  Ratchet, at least that's who Rodimus guessed the closer blob was by his voice, caught Drift before they disconnected. 

Drift stopped Ratchet's hand before he could tug the wire free of Rodimus' port.  While the rest of his wobbled, that hand stayed put.  Protecting their connection.

"I'm fine," Drift rasped. 

"Get some energon," Ratchet ordered First Aid, less authoritative than usual.  His voice was thick with worry.  Once his order had been followed, he put the cube to Drift's lips.  "Drink.  It'll help."

Drift managed half of it.  Ratchet pulled the cube away before he coughed the rest of the energon on himself.  Lifting a weak hand to the medic's face, he said, "Don't ever die."

"The Pit will take me kicking and screaming," Ratchet promised.  It was weird to hear his voice so full of affection.  But this was dream Ratchet.  Real Ratchet would never dare to show that kind of emotion.  Especially in public.

"Good," Rodimus said.  The word ended with a click of his vocalizer resetting.

"At least he seems to be recovering," Ratchet said under his ventilations.

"What's good, sweetspark?"  Drift weakly held Rodimus' hand, using what little strength his had to rub circles with his thumb.

"It's still a dream."

The thumb stopped.

"Ratchet would never be that affectionate in public," Rodimus explained.  He tried to gesture at the arm around Drift's waist but his frame wouldn't comply.  Whatever.  He could act however he wanted.  It would all disappear soon.  "So, it's a dream."

"Rodimus..."  Drift sat up, pulling away from Ratchet.  He murmured, "I'm fine, really," but he leaned heavily on the slab Rodimus was on.  Then, he turned towards Ratchet and asked, "Is it safe to tell him?"

"As long as you stay calm," Ratchet warned.

"I will," Drift promised, before turning back to Rodimus.  "Sweetspark...  This isn't a dream.  This is real."

That sent ice through his veins, but it melted quickly.  "It might not be going away like it's supposed to, but...  You can't fool me.  I've had tons of these nightmares before.  This one isn't even close to being believable.  And one time Unicron _ate_ Megatron so you'll have to do a lot better than that."

Drift rested his helm on Rodimus' abdomen.  His free hand stroked over Rodimus' chest, making soothing circles over his Autobot symbol.  "I'm going to stay with you, Rodimus.  I'll stay until you've accepted this, and then I'll stay some more.  And after this, I will always be there for you.  For anything.  For everything."

"I appreciate that, but I do want some alone time with Megs, y'know?"  Rodimus squeezed back when Drift's hold on his hand tightened, and he was pretty sure his fingers actually moved.

With a sorrowful tone, Drift murmured, "Megatron is gone, Rodimus.  He isn't coming back.  And I'm sorry to say it so bluntly but you have to realize that this is real or you'll never move on.  But I'm here."

"No, he's... he's coming back."  This time, the sharp pain felt softened some.  Like a pillow had gotten in its way.  He heard Drift grunt and cuddle closer.

"I'm sorry, Rodimus.  I love you."

"No..." 

"I'm so sorry."

"They didn't _actually_...  But...  No..."  This next pain was much duller.  It still hurt, but it wasn't shocking.  It crept up and filled his frame until he felt like he was made of the pain.  The kind of pain that wouldn't disperse no matter how he lay.  The kind of pain that couldn't be quelled by an additive in his energon.  "He can't be gone."

"Oh, Rodimus."  Drift had all but climbed into the slab with him.  He held him as best he could and as fiercely as he could.  Helm buried in his neck, he murmured, "I'm here.  I'm with you."

A familiar warmth blossomed in his spark then, and Rodimus looked around, confused.  Then he saw Ratchet, a hand on Drift's back, stroking it gently.  He didn't mean to feel bitter, but he was bitter.  He wanted that.  He should have that.  Drift had a chance to reform-- hell, Starscream was the ruler of all  of _Cybertron_!  Why shouldn't Megatron deserve a second chance?

"Stop," Drift whispered, and Rodimus immediately felt terrible.  He should be happy for his amica.  Then he noticed Drift pushing Ratchet's hand away.  "I need to feel this with him."

Rodimus found the strength to roll towards Drift a little.  Put his arm around him.  He only held it there for a moment, but he could feel Drift's appreciation.

"You feel however you need to feel, okay?" Drift told him.  "I'll feel it right along with you.  I'll help you out.  I'm here."

"Stay with me," Rodimus begged.

"I will."

"No."  Rodimus shook his helm.  "At night."  He hid his face against the top of Drift's helm.  "I don't want to sleep alone."

"I will," Drift promised.  It was a lie, though.  Eventually he'd want to be with Ratchet.  But it comforted him then.  And right then he'd believe whatever comforting lies Drift wanted to tell him.

Rodimus didn't know how long they stayed like that.  Long enough for his neck to start aching.  Long enough for Ratchet to have to sit down.  Long enough for him to dismiss First Aid.  He could look at the clock, but then he'd know, and he'd have to face reality.  At least here he could pretend time didn't exist, and that Drift would always be able to fill the emptiness left by Megatron. 

Millennia he had spent with just his own spark.  Now his casing had housed another, until it vacated.  Drift was a welcome visitor, but he was still just a visitor.  Eventually he would be forced to walk alone.  Work alone.  Recharge alone.  His chest felt painfully full and yet awfully empty. 

Even worse, he had to regret on his own.

Drift began to hum something.  A lullaby, though Rodimus could not remember the words.  It was so quiet that he felt it more than heard it.  It rumbled through his chest and through his spark that still somehow beat too fast.

"You said I couldn't die from this," Rodimus said.  His voice still crackled a bit, but he was understandable.

"Under normal circumstances, yes."  Ratchet stayed where he was seated, arms crossed, watching the monitors.  He didn't seem like he was going to go on.

"What were the abnormal circumstances?" he asked.

"We can talk tomorrow," Ratchet decided, standing.  "I'm going to get you a cot, Drift.  I think it's best we don't move him."

"Ratchet, what's wrong with me?" Rodimus pressed.

"He has a right to know," Drift pointed out, sitting up. 

"He's had enough for one day," Ratchet said more softly, but Rodimus still caught his words.

"Don't make me order you, Ratchet," Rodimus threatened.

"We're not on the Lost Light anymore," Ratchet pointed out.  "And I decide when it's best to tell my patients what's ailing them."

"Let me tell him," Drift suggested.  Then, when Ratchet didn't seem convinced, he said, "I'm still connected to him.  And it's not like it's bad news."

Ratchet grumbled, then said, "Alright."

"But what is it?" Rodimus asked, begged to know, really. 

Drift took one of Rodimus' hands in both of his, he said.  "Something wonderful, Rodimus.  Never forget that.  And I'm going to help you every step of the way.  You don't have to face this alone."

Rodimus just watched Drift, still not understanding.

"Rodimus... you're sparked."


End file.
